


Bring A Torch

by missema



Series: Sacraments [13]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Business, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fake Dating, Post Saints Row 2, Reality TV, Stilwater, Ultor, between games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6444010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are years between Saints Row 2 and the third. Years in which they grow and change, and become a subsidiary of their former nemesis, Ultor. The Saints aren't just bangers anymore, they're a business. What's good for business, isn't always good for the family, but they find their way through.</p><p>Elle and Troy have managed to stay together through it all, and now are moving forward with their relationship. Ultor has ideas on how that's supposed to happen.</p><p>Shaundi has her show in development. Pierce is about to launch Saints Flow. Johnny's Gangstas In Space comic is about to blow up. They've all got their own thing, but they're still in it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The draft for this first chapter has been sitting around on my computer forever, so I thought I'd post it. Slow updates likely, but I'm planning for a long between games story. <3

Ultor would never be ready for the Saints, but they had to deal with them. The Saints, never compliant, brought their own demands to the table.

Eric Gryphon wasn't as short sighted as Dane Vogel had been, and he'd already worked with the Saints once before. He liked to think they had a rapport. Whereas Dane considered the Saints an obstacle to his ascension, Gryphon thought it the other way around. He couldn't rise any further without them, and they in turn, wanted things he, or rather Ultor, could provide. It was a mutually beneficial partnership of the type that Ultor liked to encourage. The Saints were too powerful to be ignored and couldn't be taken out, so they had to be brought on board. Besides, Gryphon rather liked the leader of the Saints. There was more depth to her than the news reports would have him believe.

When their meeting was called, he was surprised at their demands. He'd expected more drugs, more freedoms and police payoffs, but then again, he'd been listening to biased news briefs and Ultor's own spin about the Saints. They were already a business, even if their business was illegal. They had bigger aspirations than their own pleasure.

It was an unexpected turn of events, but one he could definitely work with. He leaned forward in his chair, smiling at the Boss. He knew her name, but everyone around him called her Boss, so he did as well. It seemed like a sign of solidarity and respect to do so. It made her smile a small, surprised grin when he did it for the first time. The city leaders didn't find it amusing, but they were barely part of this business transaction.

"Boss, is there anything else Ultor can help with?"

She was thoughtful for a moment then asked, "Can I get back to you on that?"

Gryphon nodded. "My door is always open to the Saints."

She stood and left the table, with a short goodbye to those assembled that came out like a teacher dismissing a class. When Gryphon looked up, he saw Troy Bradshaw watching her as she walked out, and stared at the door even after she ceased to be there. Bradshaw frowned around the unlit cigarette he'd just put into his mouth, and Gryphon idly wondered if the Chief of Police ever smiled. Other people began to get up as well, making scattered excuses as they left the table. The meeting was over, but the work was just beginning.

#

"Are the developers able to close quickly on the property if we come to an agreement on the price?" Elle asked the real estate agent as they stood outside. 

They day had started out clear and warm, but was turning toward rain, skies dimming from blue to grey as they stood. They were waiting for Troy to show up, but had only been there a few minutes. She hadn't seen him since the meeting with Ultor earlier in the week, and Elle had no idea what could be holding him up.

"Oh yes. The market is a little soft at the moment, and with Ultor making new condos and apartment buildings left and right, a smaller builder like this one wants to move things as quickly as possible," the agent told her. As she spoke, Troy pulled up in his in his off duty car, but stepped out of it dressed fully in uniform.

"Sorry I'm late," he called as he came up the steps towards them. 

"Not a problem, Chief Bradshaw," the agent said and gave Elle a renewed smile. Her relief almost palpable. "This is a great location, and off the main street, so it should be quieter here."

She made cheery, inane chatter about the possibilities of the locale as she used the lockbox to retrieve the key that would get the three of them out of the wind. The breeze had picked up as the sky darkened, rain threatening with every passing minute. The great front door of the townhouse opened to the darkened interior of the house on silent hinges, the only light coming from bare windows. As the agent clacked away on the bare wood floors to turn on the lights past the front entry, Troy pulled Elle to him.

"This place looks promising," he whispered, then nosing into her neck, he continued, "I've missed you."

"You have to work?" she asked, but got no answer. They stepped away from each other as the sound of high heels walking came towards them again. Elle looked at the room for the first time in the light, leaving Troy in the entryway.

As she strode across the room, her own heels adding to the noise in the quiet house, Elle was annoyed. She and Troy couldn't afford to have anyone know what they were doing, and he'd come here in his uniform. She knew why he'd done it -- the easy smile the realtor had given them after he'd shown up was reason enough for him. But they were supposed to be doing this under the radar. It just irked her.

The townhouse itself was the type of new construction where quality was valued over quantity. No wonder it wasn't sold - this townhouse was smaller and had been finished in a classic style, combined with the initial high price, it had fared poorly against the more modern, lower priced condos offered by Ultor. The enclosed entry opened into a great room with dark floors that the realtor informed them were bamboo. The windows had white casings around them, with small medallions at the corner. When Elle looked up, she saw that the corners matched the large medallion overhead the framed the ceiling light. 

The first floor had a dining room, a kitchen that was on the smaller side, and a half bath. There was a one car garage that led out to the back of the house, where there was more room to park. There were only four townhouses built into a short row facing the street, but behind them there were no more buildings Just a short access road from the main street and empty lots that had been cleared but not built upon. It was a little open for her liking, but if the developer ever sold the other lots it wouldn't be so bad.

The upstairs had three decently sized bedrooms, the master with its own bath and a large window. Elle liked the rooms, the way it felt in the house. The walls were painted muted shades of grey and light blues that resonated with her. This place felt special, at least more like her than the other properties they'd gone to see. When Troy asked the realtor for a moment alone, and came up to put his arm around her waist. Elle sank into his embrace without reservation. With his chest pressed to her back, they both stared out the window of the master bedroom. She was still annoyed with him but their shared affinity for the house softened her. He kept making affirmative little noises, the kind only she could tell meant he was pleased but didn't want to give anything away. She didn't bother to ask if he liked the house; they both did.

"Wanna make an offer?" Elle asked.

"I like it, but are you sure? We've only seen a couple of places," Troy said. 

She leaned up against him, feeling his breath on the back of her neck. "I don;'t think we need to keep looking if we've found something we like."

He murmured his agreement into the wispy hairs that slipped from the messy bun atop her head. It was decided, a cash offer was made with mostly Elle's money, since it was she who was wary of banks and unlikely to get a loan without Ultor knowing. Much of Troy's savings paid his share, but it was much, much smaller than what she contributed. He never asked how she got the money, because he knew how she got it, even if they never spoke about it.

But in the end, they had a new house, one away from the Saints, Ultor and everything else. A place just for them. She had to believe that this could work -- that they could have something away. So much had been taken from her in the past, Elle just wanted this one thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Shaundi was tired of sitting around the cribs, waiting for something to happen. Stilwater was fucking dead these days. Not that she missed hunting down the Samedi, but still, at least it was something to do. The Boss was off doing her thing, whatever that was. The Saints patrolled, made sure nothing was happening on the streets that they didn't approve of, but it was fucking dead everywhere. She didn't need to oversee that. If anything did come up, Pierce could handle it. Time to bust out of Stilwater and take a short break. Steelport was close, and she had a good contact there that always came through with the product when she needed some for her own recreation. 

She was already planning a trip in her mind when Johnny came in. She knew it was him, not the Boss, because the Boss tended to get people gathered around her. Fucking sycophants. Johnny they moved away from, unless he needed something. It was like the sea was parting for him, and all she could see was him bathed in purple light wearing a dark grey suit. His good suit. She sat up immediately, wondering what was up.

"Hey Johnny," she called out to him. 

Strange that he'd come here all dressed up, but he must mean business if he had. The last time she'd seen him in a full suit was Aisha's funeral. Shaundi whistled at him as he drew near. He ignored her, but that just made her grin. It was all friendly between them -- she could and had fucked a lot of people, but Johnny would never be one of them. He was definitely more the brother type, but the Boss was a different story. Shaundi had a crush on Elle when they first met, but even back then she'd been practically secret married. Johnny came to stand next to where she was sitting and she looked up at him, trying to get her focus back.

"Going someplace good, Johnny?" she asked. "Or are you just out to hook up?"

"Not really unless you like fucking Ultor execs. I'll pass, cause Dane Vogel just didn't manage to do it for me. Just got out of a meeting with those bitches. I pitched them my comic book and I think they liked it."

"Comic book?" Shaundi asked. 

She missed a lot when she was stoned, but Johnny only ever poked fun at her about it, never chastising her for it. She expected a rebuke, a comeback or something that let him shrug it off. Instead, he carefully handed her a notebook that he'd been holding. 

"Gangstas in Space, check it out," he said, grinning at her. The cover was pebbled black leather with good, heavy weight white pages for drawing. Nearly every page was filled with pencil and black ink sketches. It's a comic, not just the bunch of rough ideas that filled the first few pages. Shaundi sits down on the couch and curls her legs under her.

Johnny didn't say anything, but watched her curl up with his book. When she stopped to laugh, at a panel depicting the Boss trying to figure out how to diffuse space bomb, she looked up at him. "This is really good, Johnny, really fucking good. You gave it to Ultor?"

"I didn't give them shit. I let them see it. But they're going to put it in production, hopefully. I ain't stupid though, I didn't sign shit without the Boss around. We just talked about getting it in comic shops and adding some color. Do you know there's motherfuckers out there that just get paid to color? Fuck, if I'd known that, I might not have been a Saint."

"The fuck you say?" the Boss asked, walking into the room on a clatter of high heels. People were already following behind her, or waiting just out of sight for their turn. Whenever the Boss was around -- instant crowd. She dismissed them with an angry wave of her hand, enough to let them know to get lost for now. "You gonna color for a living now?"

"Hell no. There's no fucking way I'd give up shooting people," Johnny said, grinning at Elle.

She shot a smirk back at him and Shaundi found herself grinning at the pair of them. They were so much alike that it was hard not to fall into their infectious patter of friendship. But was today laundry day or something? Elle was dressed up too. Already a few inches taller than Johnny, her heels made her tower over him. They both looked good, but too unlike themselves, too glam and not nearly as much street. Whatever was going on, it was starting to feel like a fashion show in the room, and Shaundi was left out. While she was still rocking the low-rise jeans and tank top, the Boss was wearing a short black skirt suit and black pumps that lent a statuesque quality to her long, twig-thin frame.

"What's going on?" Shaundi asked.

"Needed a few people to move some things. It's not a big deal, so I put Pierce on it. Don't worry," Elle said, giving her a look. "I gotta get to a meeting, but Ultor's got an idea for you that I think might be good. At least, it won't be boring no matter what. Think it might be a real good fit for you, Shaundi. You down?"

Shaundi sat up, wondering what it could be. Then she remembered the light bulb at her side and she relit it, then took a hit. The Boss wouldn't set her up, and if Johnny was doing a deal with Ultor, it couldn't hurt her to get a little something of her own.

"Yeah, I'm down for whatever, Boss." Shaundi smiled through the haze of smoke, but wasn't sure if anyone saw it. When the smoke cleared, Elle was grinning back at her.

#

"We should probably go grocery shopping?" Troy said to Elle as he handed her a white box of Chinese takeout. He was already shirtless and stretched out, not really willing to go anywhere. Neither one of them were after she'd been dicking with Ultor all day. She'd come home and just by her stance, he'd known she was tired and not in the mood for much but relaxation.

"Probably," Elle agreed. She opened the box, then handed it back to him. "Just plain rice," she said.

"Oh shit, then this is probably the fried rice," he said, picking up another and handing it to her.

They'd bought the townhouse and closed quickly on it. Troy technically still lived in his condo, but there was nothing there unless Ultor had moved in some furniture already. Ultor was paying the rent on it now, or not, since they owned the building. It didn't really matter to either of them what Ultor did with the space. What did matter was that they owned this place, together, legally. She'd kissed him in the car outside the lawyer's office when they'd finished signing on the dotted line, and he would remember that kiss until he died. It had been something her kisses rarely ever were, hopeful.

Right now there was nothing but boxes and scattered mess on the first floor of their new townhouse, so it had been another night for takeout. There had been no appliances at the house, so Elle sent a few people out to get some for them. Good shit, stainless steel and all that, at least according to her. Then Troy found out and he went to the store and bought some, because he couldn't have stolen appliances in his house, even if no one knew they were stolen or that he even had a house. Elle told him that he 'didn't appreciate her hard work'. They were due to arrive in two days.

The only decorating they'd done was to ensure that curtains hung in every room, heavy blackout curtains that made things perfectly private for the new homeowners. Their bedroom came together with record speed, Troy's bed from his apartment was the first piece of furniture reassembled. The rest of it was there too, the tv hooked up and perched on the dresser. In that room, the only one with that had nice paint on the walls and not the flat builder paint colors , it was easy to forget that the house wasn't completely unpacked. He liked the sense of a real home he got when he was in the room, especially when he and Elle were doing nothing in particular. Like tonight, when Troy had promised her food and a foot rub. Both had made her a lot less cranky as the evening went on.

All it took was one trip downstairs to remind them that they'd only been in the house a week. Unpacking was hard. Not because they had so much stuff, because Elle truly didn't have much at all, but because he didn't want to unpack. Packing itself had been enough of a job, and he had more stuff than Elle. He told her he was planning on taking a week off before he delved too far into the boxes, but really, he was going to just dig through them until either she or necessity dictated that he unpack fully.

A magazine sat on the bed between them, open. It was Stilwater Magazine, a local glossy funded in part by Ultor. Troy was on the cover and featured inside of it. Elle had been laughing since it came out, but he was annoyed by the whole thing. He should have learned his lesson about giving interviews back in the day, when he'd done one about life undercover and he wound up sounding like an asshole. This article had pictures, and therefore was much worse for him. Life at the precinct would have been a lot harder to bear had he not been chief. They sniggered behind his back, but didn't dare do it to his face. All he had to endure was a little gentle teasing from those close enough to not to fear reprisal. That and the anonymous people that had papered his door with the pictures from the magazine when it first came out. 

Troy was the most eligible bachelor in Stilwater, according to the article. He really didn't like it when his girlfriend pointed it out. And she did, quite a lot. Even though she never said it, he guessed that it pissed her off too.

"I think this is my favorite of the pictures," Elle said, holding up the magazine. Troy sighed heavily before turning around. He didn't look to see which one it was. Every day it was a new photo.

"Ellie, seriously? How long are we going to do this?"

"It's a good photo, Troy. I like how they've got your brow glistening under the sun. Too bad you aren't as ripped as when we first met. They might have done some shirtless pics."

"Then I might have to explain why I have your name tattooed on my side," he pointed out.

"True, and that would have made the most eligible bachelor story a much harder sell." She cocked her head to the side and said softly, "but that might have made me happier."

Troy didn't answer, he kissed her. He was sorry for the way the article turned out, not just because of the shit he got at the precinct, but because she was definitely upset by it all. Tonight, she was having a hard time, for whatever reason. It didn't have to stay that way, not if he could make it better.

His kiss pushed her back against the headboard, and when she was stuck between him pressing into her and the back of the bed, Elle started to respond to his kiss with ferocity of her own. She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer, her mouth surprisingly soft against his. Yeah, she was sad, and he could feel it. With each kiss he coaxed a little more response from her, some of the fire he was used to, letting her take her time to answer him back. Her tongue finally sought out his and Troy welcomed it, teasing her as he tasted the salty soy sauce she'd put on her rice.

She pushed him away, gently, two fingers on his chest. He backed up and looked at her, waiting.

"If we're doing this now, you need to get all of those containers off these sheets. They cost fifteen hundred dollars."

"What?!" Troy yelped, genuine surprise in the word. "Ellie, where the fuck did you get sheets more expensive than the bed?" He looked at them, yeah they were soft and very white, but he didn't even know they made sheets that expensive.

"Pratesi, well, I ordered them online so yes, I paid for them." 

"You've been buying shit online for the townhouse?" he asked, unsure whether it was wise.

"Yeah, but it's not shipped here. I'm not stupid, Troy. Just a couple of things. I wanted us to have a home," she said, looking up at him through her lashes. 

Oh, he knew he was being played, but he grinned at her, unable to hide it. She was already downcast and now she was giving him the big dark eyes routine. But he was touched by the sentiment, by the fact that she went out of her way to make sure that they had the best for their place. Troy picked up the food and hastily put it back in the bag, ridding the bed of any evidence it was used as a dinner table. When he finished, she smiled at him, beckoning him back to the bed.

"You're the best," she said, "but you can still prove it."

He took off his pants as he headed back to the bed, and she grinned at him. Troy made sure he took his time showing her just how good he was. Later, he wished he hadn't taken quite so much time, because they had a lot of food and no microwave. Or pots and pans. It hadn't been part of his nightly plans to start unpacking the box that said kitchen, but that's what they did, afterwards. Eventually, they even got to eat their food.


	3. Chapter 3

Turns out, there's a lot of work that goes into making a reality show, more than she realized when she was just sitting around watching them. The only thing real about it is the work, because it's a whole show from scratch, no scripts just scenes they want to play out. Shaundi showed up to the set that Ultor constructed to be her apartment, impressed with the whole thing. Someone with a lot of talent had created a spacious, cool, one bedroom apartment filled with light and space and all kinds of things Shaundi would have never thought to buy for herself.

She opened one of the drawers in the kitchen and found the weirdest shit. When she held one of the gadgets up, someone called out to her that it was a garlic press. Like for real, a garlic press, as if she were going to start making some dinner in here at the fake stove. She only liked garlic when it was already cooked into her Italian food, and not in her kitchen.

It was a cool set, even if it wasn't remotely like the place she would have made for herself. The purple they used was the wrong shade, too light and more lavender than Saints purple. This place said young, slightly edgy without too much actual edge, and above all -- designer. This was where she'd retreat after the guys competing for a date with her completed their shenanigans. There were spaces for cameras everywhere, behind and hidden by the overly expensive furniture. Even though the toilet in the bathroom worked, Shaundi made a mental note to never use it. 

For a moment she took a deep breath and steadied herself. The Boss had warned her that it would all be fake, but she hadn't realized how much of it was prompted. She was playing herself, a strange version of her that would give out little, diplomatic smiles and flirt with guys that wouldn't normally get the time of day from her just for the sake of competition. That's really what was going to happen. They'd already held auditions, and there were thirty guys that were going to try win a chance to sleep with her. "I Wanna Sleep With Shaundi" sounded a little more MTV than she'd wanted, but it was straight to the point. The name allowed them to be a little more candid and adult with their competition games. They'd air at 11pm, after prime time.

"Hey Shaundi, how are you liking the set for your apartment?" a bubbly, cheery voice asked. Shaundi turned and found herself face to face with someone whose name she should have known, but it didn't come to mind.

"Hi, um, it all looks great," Shaundi said, not sure what else to say.

"Good. Now, Stacy wanted to see you to discuss your image. I know that the Saints have their own kind of look, which is cool, like street cool. But TV requires something else," she said, leading Shaundi off the set and towards a trailer.

Outside of it a woman stood smoking a cigarette. When they stopped next to her, Shaundi realized that this was Stacy. They waited, but Stacy said nothing as she finished her smoke. Then she looked Shaundi up and down and asked in a raspy voice, "How much do you love the dreads?"

Shaundi thought about it, tilting her head to the side. There was an offer on the table, but she wasn't going to accept it blindly. "What do you have in mind?"

The grim-faced Stacy laughed, the sound filled with smoke and phlegm. Shaundi started to worry, just a little bit.

#

"This is fucking stupid," Elle muttered, and for once, no one in the meeting tried to censor her use of the f-word. The eyes of the people sitting around the polished conference table were mostly looking down at the papers that had been distributed to everyone assembled, but only really concerned two of them.

Troy was sitting next to her, smoking far too many cigarettes and saying nothing as he scowled down at a paper. It was the same as the one in front of her, but unlike Elle, he hadn't voiced his opinion yet. He just sat there, smoking, frowning. Eric Gryphon sat at the other end of the table, his hands steepled as if he were in deep thought, but she could see him grinning behind them. The urge to punch him in his face nearly overwhelmed her, but she tried to keep it down. She still might, depending on how this meeting went.

It wasn't a bad plan, not from Ultor's perspective. From hers, it was fucking stupid, and Elle had no problem saying so as many times as it took. This was new territory for her, and that always proved difficult, unless she could shoot her way out. Something told her that bullets wouldn't be of any help in this case.

"So you want us to date? Like go out on dates with each other?" Troy began, and someone, one of the board members, let out an audible sigh of relief. They'd been more afraid of his reaction than hers, and that stung her pride, just a little.

"That's right," Gryphon said, speaking up after a long pause. "If the two of you are seen out together at events, it would go a long way towards shaping the public opinion. We have to get out in front of this, and tell the story our way. You two are old friends. Ms. Baker can be seen as reforming, and her association with the Chief of Police a step in that."

"Hold the fuck on," Elle began, heated. "Reformed? What is that supposed to mean? I still run the Saints."

"The Saints and Ultor are in a collaborative relationship now, Ms. Baker. Ultor appreciates your cooperation and drive in creative matters, but this requires some finesse," another board member said, this one a bland face in a suit whose name Elle couldn't recall.

"We don't want the public to lose faith in our police force or Chief Bradshaw. By changing the narrative of the situation to fit our version of events, the Chief isn't likely to be forced out of office by people who lose confidence in him," Gryphon said.

"Not that there won't be those opposed to it, there will always be opposition. But this is the best chance the two of you have for maintaining public images and your relationship. If you don't, someone will find out and then it will be a scandal. Charge of corruption and corroboration will be leveled at the Chief, and no one wants that," another board member pointed out.

"Especially not when he's done such an admirable job at protecting our city," Eric Gryphon said, and around the table, each of the board members applauded. She wasn't sure if they were applauding him or Troy, but the whole thing had a rehearsed quality to it.

Troy still hadn't said much, but he was looking at her. Pleading really, if she read him right. For all that he complained and railed about the work, she knew he loved his job. Why had she fallen for a cop? To be fair, at the time he was just another banger, at least as far she'd known. If this idiotic mimicry of dating could save him pain, well, she'd do it. That was what Gryphon had been counting on, the bastard. If she didn't agree, then she and Troy wouldn't be the real thing and it would be nothing to worry about. 

"I get final approval on all the dates. No one follows us to and from, and they definitely leave our homes and businesses alone. No photographer or shit outside our house, do you understand?" Elle demanded, standing up as she said it. All of this would have to be put in writing. Ultor were sneaky bastards, good at twisting their own words so they didn't have to break them. Her Saints could patrol outside the house to make sure they'd be left alone.

Her head was spinning. If she didn't leave now, she would really lose it. Already the corners of her vision were turning fuzzy, her hand groping for the cool butt of a gun that she didn't have on her. The tailored black blazer she wore, emblazoned with the crest of a private school she'd never heard of and black leather pants looked great, but left no place to carry a concealed weapon in the boardroom. They'd banned her from openly carrying since Dane Vogel's untimely demise.

"Of course," Gryphon said, nodding at her. "We wouldn't do anything you didn't approve of," he lied. She knew it was a lie, but was already making her way out the door. Troy was still sitting at the table, and she'd left her paper -- a tentative schedule of outings -- behind. It didn't matter.

In the hall, she waited for the elevator, but it was taking far too long for her liking. She wanted to punch something, at the very least. Being strong-armed into orchestrated dates with the man she'd been with for almost a decade was ridiculous. They were already living together and Ultor knew it, but here they were, dancing to their song. God, fuck. She wasn't even sure what to do about it other than be mad.

She clattered down the stairs in her heels, wondering why she'd started wearing the damn things. Her feet ached by the time she got to the first floor, her toes pinched by the force of rushing down the stairs in peep-toe shoes. When she got to the main door, a hand touched her elbow just before she could leave. Elle jerked her arm away without halting, but they caught up with her again.

"Elle," Troy said. "Wait."

"Troy," she said, trying to calm herself down. 

It didn't work, not really, but seeing him helped. He was sheepish, his hands sunk into his pockets, hat brim pulled low over his eyes. He must have come down on the elevator she hadn't waited for, her feet throbbing as she cursed her own impatience. Her straightened hair, parted down the center, stuck to her lipstick and Elle pushed it away with a shaking hand. There was no way to be cool about surrendering so much control, about letting her enemies and everyone else in on her biggest secret. Anger always worked when she couldn't be cool about a situation, and she was about to go off.

"I know you're upset," he said.

"I'm doing this for us, for you," she told him in a low voice. Without seeing his eyes, it was impossible for her to really know what he was thinking, but his relief was written in the lines of his body, the way he made himself hold back from touching her.

"I know," he said. "You are so," he started, but stopped, looking fondly at her, "I'll never forget this," he said quietly.

That made her smile. "You'd better not." They couldn't hug, not here, so she signed "I love you" to him, and he returned it, fingers fumbling as he did. It made the rush of rage ebb in her mind, so she could start to think clearly.

"Gotta go anyway," she said. "Meeting Shaundi on set. Are you going back to work?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"I'll see you later," Troy told her, giving her a quick grin. He meant at home, another thing that neither of them could say in the Ultor lobby. She saw him watching her as she walked out the glass doors. He waved, and she waved back, sure that he knew well enough to at least have an inkling of what was going to come next. Elle headed towards the side of the building where the parking lot was. 

Sliding on her sunglasses, she scanned the array of cars. Elle hadn't actually drove, but she did have to get to the set to see Shaundi. The solution was clear, and with Troy out of sight, she didn't hesitate before she stole Eric Gryphon's car from the executive parking spot with his name on it and drove off.

#

There was little point in stealing a car if Gryphon could just call the police and get it right back, so she took it to first Forgive and Forget and then Rim Jobs so they could do their best to make it unrecognizable. She grinned to herself as she dropped it off -- she'd never had a Justice before, and this one fit nicely into her collection. In one of her own cars, she pulled up the set where Shaundi's show was going to be filmed and was admitted immediately. They told her where to park, and by the time she was out of her car, an assistant had been dispatched to her.

"Hi, I'm Tina!" she said. "I'll take you right to Shaundi." Tina was young, with pixie cut blond hair, an earpiece and a clipboard. She was so fucking cute she could have been an elf or some shit like that. Like a cookie elf, not one of the angry bow and arrow wielding ones.

"Appreciate it," Elle said. 

"I hope you enjoy your visit to the set. We've just finished getting it together. Over there to the left," she pointed and Elle followed it with mild interest, "that's where the guys are going to do the physical challenges. It's made to look like both a jungle and a beach."

"Why not just go to a resort to film?" she asked, but Tina made a face.

"Take all of those guys on planes? No way. This is way easier. I think the last episodes will involve dates in paradise, but the producers haven't decided where that will be yet. Wait, aren't you a producer?"

"Executive producer," Elle confirmed. She didn't do on set work, but had funded part of the show. If she hadn't Ultor wouldn't have gone for it. Now that she had, she was guaranteed a cut of the profits, so the joke was on them.

"Right," Tina said, walking on. "So anyway, all the guys have nicknames and personas, and they'll compete in events, then go on mini-dates with Shaundi. Sometimes there will be group dates, but we've got a hot tub and lots of little nooks for makeouts." Tina giggled as if just saying the word was enough to make her blush. Elle took another look at her, and realized that she couldn't be more than twenty-two. 

She listened to Tina explain the show to her, as if she hadn't thought up it herself. Actually, she'd been high on Loa Dust and cribbing notes from some other shitty show on tv, but that didn't matter. Johnny found her laying on the floor of the crib replaying scenes on her DVR, muttering "I Wanna Sleep With Shaundi," to herself. Once he realized what she meant, he'd helped her watch a backlog of crappy reality tv dating shows. Some of the duds had some good ideas but poor execution, kinda like The Ronin.

They came to the set, where Shaundi was surrounded by cameras, talking about nothing. They must be testing her. As they came closer, she could hear Shaundi clearly, but not see her. Then she did, and her jaw dropped. Shaundi had always been pretty, but now she looked breathtaking. They'd changed her hair, her clothes, pretty much all of it, but it was still Shaundi. It was just updated, cooler, in control, Shaundi. This was the woman that could take care of herself, not the helpless stoner waif that Veteran Child kidnapped. This woman would shoot her foes without even blinking, and that thought filled Elle with pride. Her Shaundi had come into her own.

When they stopped filming, Elle walked over, putting her hand on Shaundi's shoulder. Gone were the weird hippie chick clothes, in favor of a sleeker, trendier outfit. Elle had to admit, she liked the purple pants. Her wardrobe could always use more purple.

"Looking good, Shaundi," she said, smiling as she did. "That hair is very you, and it looks cute. I see they're not hesitating to show off your assets," she said, checking out the impressive cleavage Shaundi was boasting. Shaundi laughed as Elle continued, "You feeling a little bit better about this now?" There had been some hesitation in the beginning.

"Fuck yeah, Boss. This is going to be awesome," Shaundi grinned at her. "Even if these dudes aren't worth a damn --"

"-- and they won't be," Elle interrupted, and they both laughed.

"Even so, I'm determined to have a good time. How'd your meeting go?"

Elle grimaced, and looked around the set. No one appeared to be listening to them, but there were still too many people. She had to be careful, leave out the details. "We're going on Daddy Ultor approved outings."

It took Shaundi a moment to understand the cryptic statement, and then her mouth dropped open. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Elle spat the word out, disgusted. Her anger hadn't really dissipated, but she could be cool enough for now. These people didn't get to see her hurt or upset. "For his sake I'm going along with it."

"It might not be so bad, Boss. You never know," Shaundi said, but she didn't believe it, Elle could hear it in her voice. 

"Not that I don't enjoy going out, but I'd rather be here. Shit's about to start happening, isn't it?"

"Filming begins in two days. If you've got time, I'd like you to be here," Shaundi said, a little of her uncertainty creeping out from under the new façade.

"Count on it," Elle said, grinning at her friend.


	4. Chapter 4

For their first date, he helped Elle zip up the ball gown she was wearing, and she tied his bow tie. They got into the two separate cars, and then got to the charity ball where they acted like sitting together was just a coincidence. It was a little amusing, if Troy was honest with himself. Ultor was arranging dates for him and the woman he'd bought a house with, the woman he came home to every night. This was their 'first' date, and in a way, he supposed it was. He'd never been one for dating much, and he and Elle had always been hiding their relationship. It beat Freckle Bitches and trying to corner her alone in the old church. 

It was uncomfortable when she first approached the table where he already sat, because Troy was keenly aware of how many eyes were on the two of them. No one said anything as she sat down next in the seat next to his, a vision in a floaty white dress with an abstract grey print on it. When they'd first decided to go, Ultor had specifically asked him not to wear his uniform, but had given Elle no such restrictions on her wardrobe. He'd been surprised when she'd ditched her short black skirts for an ankle-length designer gown so expensive it cost more than he made in a month. Stefan made it just for her, a custom couture gown, he'd called it as he came to fit it in secret. Troy only had the vaguest idea of what that even meant. All he knew was that when she walked, he wasn't the only one in the room that couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Chief," she said, acknowledging him primly as she sat down. "It's good to see you again, Troy. No uniform again? It must be a habit whenever you and I meet, you opt for subterfuge." He almost laughed as she tweaked him, chafing at the bonds of their play-acting already. 

"I'm a private citizen here tonight, just like you," he answered, voice unexpectedly rough. He hoped his smile wasn't too obvious as he nodded back at her. 

The rest of their table stared at the two of them in silence, watching, waiting. Instead of putting his hand on her thigh and leaning in to smile at her like he wanted, Troy remained stiff. It wasn't difficult to pretend -- he had met her while undercover -- but it wasn't entirely effortless.

This date would be the hardest, he knew, because people all around would hear them, would be listening. This was the one time when he had to pretend like she was little more than an old criminal acquaintance. If he was too familiar or forgiving, people would be suspicious. After this there would be less scrutiny on their reactions and more focus on whether or not they were really together and how would this work, that sort of thing.

"Good to see you, too," he said belatedly, trying to keep up their talk. Fuck, he'd never been good at small talk, but he'd gotten better in the past few years. "It's been a long time. I wasn't expecting to sit next to you, yet here we are."

"Indeed," Elle said, raising her champagne glass to her lips. He caught just a hint of her smile there before she hid it by taking a drink. 

He watched her painted pink lips on the glass, suddenly flushing hot in his tuxedo. He'd kissed her lips countless times, but right now Troy was desperate to add a few more to the tally. She drank deeply from her glass, closing her eyes as she did. Troy noticed the makeup, the false eyelashes and the gold bracelet that sat on her wrist, diamonds catching the light. Elle looked exquisite, but he always loved it when she dressed up.

"Are you interested in the arts?" Troy asked, reaching for something to say to justify his staring. Their table and those around were still watching them, tense and silent with anticipation.

"Yeah, of course. Why else would I be here?" Elle asked, posing the question with a sardonic smile. "I'm surprised that you're here personally, Chief. Unless you're here to make sure I stay in line," she said, querying him with an arched eyebrow.

"I don't think all the cops in the main precinct could do that," Troy said, and Elle laughed. 

It was her deep, husky laugh, a laugh for inside jokes and wry amusements. He'd heard her laugh that same laugh in his ear that very night as he'd zipped up her dress, noticing that there was no bra on underneath it. Troy crossed his legs as he recalled sweeping the long curls of hair out of the way to reveal her smooth, dark back and a dainty zipper that brought sheer fabric together.

They continued to make small talk through dinner, and the rest of their table relaxed. Once it was clear that he wasn't going to arrest her and she wasn't going to shoot him, more than a few people lost interest. Troy realized he was flirting with her in truth, not the way they had before when she'd been all but the silent as she did Saints business, but in the way he would now, if he met her. It was a strangely surreal experience, this far gone into their relationship and forced to start at the beginning again. It made him almost nostalgic for the old days, for his cars and Ben King's apartment and kisses behind Dex's back. Hell, he even missed Johnny.

After the dinner Troy asked her to dance and then for good measure, danced with her for most of the night. People whispered at first, then stared, and finally didn't bother to try to hide as he spent the majority of his night with her in his arms. Strange as it was, it was also kinda nice to finally be out together, even on a fake date. He kept flirting with her, aware that while it might play into their roles, he'd get the real dividends when they went home. As they danced together, he saw the flashbulbs go off and knew that Ultor's plan had worked. People would be speculating, talking, gossiping, but none of them would guess the truth.

The truth was, when he got home that night he helped her out of that dress and they took a shower together, laughing about their stilted attempt at small talk through the night. It had gotten easier as the night had gone on, and less ears were listening to them. Then he rubbed her aching feet and fell asleep in his boxer shorts because he was too tired to get up and put on the rest of his pajamas. Elle pulled the blanket over him sometime during the night, and he woke up with her snuggled against his back. He smiled all the way into work that day.

"Chief, this came for you first thing," Ramos said, handing him a document envelope as he walked past her desk. It was marked urgent, and had the Ultor symbol in one corner.

"Thanks," Troy mumbled, opening up his office and letting the door slam behind him. He didn't even take off his coat before ripping the envelope open.

It was a photo. He and Elle were sitting next to each other, the place settings and glasses between them and the photographer sparkling, but slight out of focus. It was their faces that were the focal point, and they were sharp and clear. He looked decent in his tux, even though his face was a little tired. Elle sitting next to him in that dress was wearing a guarded smile. A fall of curls covered part of her face, and in black and white it made the shot more striking, like something from an old film. He didn't have a photo of them together, at least not one that they didn't take themselves. It was unexpectedly kind of them to send it, though he wasn't the type to think it was a purely altruistic gesture. Even so, he'd have to make sure Ultor gave one to her too.

#

Planet Saints was going to open its first store soon, with a ribbon cutting. Before that, they had to take promo pictures. She declined to do anything but group shots, but Johnny, Shaundi and Pierce were all going to do it. Elle got up early to get to the shoot. She was going mostly for support and to make sure that Ultor didn't fuck things up. 

It was far, far too early in the morning when she got there. She'd even got up before Troy, who was a stickler for getting up early and exercising these days. The townhouse had his freeweights in the basement, and a treadmill she'd bought. He did fucking cardio first thing in the morning, claiming that fasted cardio helped him lose weight. Elle chuckled to herself as she thought about it, proud of his dedication. As she walked up to the shooting set, another headset-wearing lackey that knew her name greeted her and acted as escort.

"Everyone's here already except you and Johnny Gat," they told her as she navigated her way through what looked like an abandoned warehouse turned into a photo studio. Lights and wires were everywhere, most of the lights off and sitting on the ground, but the wires more treacherously crisscrossing the halls. 

"Is he late?" Elle asked, suddenly suspicious as she picked her way through a minefield of thick wire, grateful that she opted for tennis shoes and jeans instead of her heels. She guessed they were close to the action, because more voices grew louder and the further in they went.

"We sent a car, but he refused it. We thought he might be with you," they admitted.

"Fuck," Elle muttered, and took out her phone. She moved off to the side of the room, near to where a table was laden with a selection of fruit and breakfast foods. She picked up a slice of melon and ate it as Johnny's phone rang in her ear. A few of the people in the room looked up blearily at her, but then went back to their food. 

"Boss," he said, picking up. "What's up?"

"Where are you?"

"Gettin' a breakfast burrito before I head over," Johnny said, sounding bored by the whole idea of a photoshoot.

"I'm standing in front of a whole fucking table of food," she told him, but he just chuckled.

"Yeah, but I'm already in line to get a burrito. I'll be there soon. This shit's too early anyway. You want anything?"

"I'm good. Plenty of food here."

"I'll get there, Boss. Don't worry," he said, and then hung up.

Elle looked up at the assistant still watching her and sighed. "He's on his way," she said and shrugged. What else could she do? They looked relieved at the news, and then directed her to the room where both Shaundi and Pierce were getting makeup done.

Shaundi, complete with her new look, was glowing. Her hair was shining and beautiful under the lights in the makeup room, already decked out in the outfit she wore on her show. Pierce too looked good, his beard trimmed think and neat, and a new suit tailored to fit his frame. Elle felt like a proud mama hen, though this was far from the future she'd envisaged for her brood.

"Why aren't you dressed?" A voice screeched in her direction. Elle turned on her heel, slowly, giving the speaker a chance to think about what they'd just done. When she faced them, she leveled the fluttering man with a look, or she would have if Stefan weren't already used to her looks.

"Miss Baker, or can I call you Boss?" he asked, and she nodded. Stefan linked arms with her, grinning. "Boss, I have such an outfit planned for you. 'Gangsta chic'. It came to me one night after Ultor asked me to help them design. For half a day, Stefan lamented. I cannot do this, I think, but then I remember the money. What can I do with these people, these ruffians that once held Stefan captive? But then, I knew, it just came into my mind. Leather."

He chattered on as he led her away, towards a wardrobe change that Elle hadn't seen coming. Stefan had apparently drawn deeply on the dominatrix look for her, inspired by the thought of her being 'in control'. Elle shrugged off most of the suggestions, but slipped into the leather pants with three belts, high heeled boots festooned with buckles and a lacy black shirt under a purple leather motorcycle jacket. Her hair came next, and she refused to cut it, so they let it fall into long, loose waves. By the time she was getting her makeup done for the group shots, Johnny was sitting near her, in a new jacket of his own, getting his hair trimmed.

Pierce was up in front of the camera, and Elle watched as she waited for him to get done. They needed to talk, because Elle had an idea that Ultor had just approved that morning. She sauntered over to him when they finally called a halt to the endless photo shoot, and pulled him away from the people milling about. Johnny took Pierce's place a few moments later, starting yet another photo shoot.

"Got something I think you'd be perfect for," Elle started, and Pierce perked up.

"You want my music?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"They ain't ready for that yet. Listen, don't be disappointed, I'm gonna make you famous. How would you like to be the face of the Saints energy drink?"

"An energy drink, Boss? I don't know much about those."

"Yeah, I don't think you need to know shit about them to sell them. No name yet, but Ultor's gonna launch it in Japan first, so we're going to need someone out there to shoot some commercials, meet people, hype it all up this summer after Planet Saints opens. You down?"

Pierce hugged her, he actually hugged her. Then he pulled back, still grinning. "Yeah, Boss, just put me on the plane!"

Elle grinned back at him, nodding. It wasn't the record release Pierce had been angling for, but after Ultor passed on his music, she had to do something. Pierce was too good and loyal to leave him out in the cold, so she'd found a product for him. Before they could celebrate further, someone came up behind her. 

"Ms. Baker, what do we do? Johnny's declared himself done."

Elle looked up, and sure enough Johnny was nowhere to be seen, the crew in a panic. She shrugged. "Go find Shaundi, and tell her she's up. If Johnny's done, he's done."

"We still need group shots."

"I'll see what I can do," Elle said, gritting her teeth as she tried to track Johnny down for the second time that day.

#

"Hey," Troy said, looking up at the sound of Elle coming in the door. She looked tired as she walked in and threw her purse onto the counter. Then she stopped, looking around.

He'd taken half a day off and come home early to clean up. There had been a lot to unpack, mostly his shit, but luckily Elle left a pair of Saints outside all the time. He'd simply gotten them to call some backup, and he'd gotten a lot of it taken care of, no problem. It almost made him nostalgic for old times, for back when they met. He'd been much like those kids, looking up to Julius the way they did Elle. Good thing for them Elle was more trustworthy than Julius had ever been.

"Holy shit, babe," she said, looking around, taking it all in. There was no clutter anywhere, just the way he liked it.

She grinned at him. There were no more boxes around, not even the ones that she'd ordered and he'd had to open up and figure out what the fuck to do with the stuff inside. Troy felt stupid having to look for packing slips to explain some of the items, and he had no idea why anyone would need a cake pan shaped like a rose, but he'd put it in the kitchen with the rest of the things. By the end when he'd put away a carpet cleaner in a house that had hardwood floors, he'd concluded that Elle just liked to shop, and their home provided her with a ready excuse. He wasn't complaining. Troy had opened up packs of furniture and strange small kitchen devices, a waffle maker, and a few rugs. The furniture got put together, the rugs were unrolled and laid down and the kitchen was full to bursting with new things.

Elle came and sat down next to him on the couch, drooping as she did. Her hair was down, the ends of it trailing her elbows, making her look even younger than she was, though there were dark shadows around her eyes. The excitement of the clean and unpacked house was short-lived, and now her shoulders stooped as she reached down to take off her boots. These were clothes he hadn't seen before, but then he remembered that she'd had a photoshoot earlier.

"Long day?" Troy asked, taking her nearest foot and setting it on his lap. He kneaded at the sole with his hand, trying to ease some of the pain away. She often complained about wearing heels, but whatever pain she experienced never seemed to stop her from buying more.

"Yeah. Johnny walked off one time, Pierce and I need to go to Japan and Shaundi has to film two episodes tomorrow to make up for the interruption in the scheduling today. Photoshoots are the fucking worst," she said, and he had to agree with her there. He hadn't much liked the last one he'd done either.

Troy made a noise of agreement, and continued rubbing her foot. She sighed contentedly as he did, shrugging off the leather jacket she wore. He raised an eyebrow at the sheer lace shirt underneath, he could see her bra through it, but since Elle didn't offer any explanation, Troy thought it best not to ask. She closed her eyes and let him work in silence for a moment, before speaking again.

"Hey, I got a call before I came in. The press is staking out your old apartment."

"Are they?" Troy was amused, but not surprised. Those pictures of the two of them at the charity dinner had been buzzing around the precinct since they'd come out. Groups of cops got quiet when he came by, and he knew why. No one dared to ask him, not even Ramos, who smiled knowingly at him, as if she'd guessed long before now.

Troy pulled her other foot to his lap, and started working on that one. Were her toes painted a different color now? He couldn't remember, but it didn't escape him that Elle was being primped more and more at each outing. They were really trying to make her commercialized, and though that made his gut squirm uneasily, he had no place to complain if she didn't mind. 

"I guess we'll just have to stay in. It's a good thing I picked up dinner before you came home," he said, answering her finally.

"Now you're just showing off," she said, grinning at him. "How'd you get all the boxes unpacked anyway?"

Troy laughed, thinking of how he'd gone straight up to the car that lurked about outside. They hadn't fled at the sight of him, but he saw the girl in the driver's seat with her hands locked on the wheel, knuckles white as he motioned for them to roll down the window. 

"I had some help," he said evasively. "You want lasagna? I need to warm it up."

"Foot rubs and carbs," Elle sighed, looking up at him dreamily. "You know how to treat a girl right."

Troy lifted her feet off his lap, and got up, pausing to lean down for a kiss. He got the feeling she needed a hug, so he pulled her to him, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck, feeling her relax in his arms. When she let go, he pulled back, wordlessly, and kissed her forehead. Then he set off to the kitchen, humming to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

It was just barely the end of winter but there had been enough warm days where they pretended like spring was on the way, and that meant Stilwater U was having basketball playoffs. Not NCAA playoffs, mind you, but regional ones. Their basketball team wasn't the greatest, but there was enough talent to put on a good show. Elle and Troy had tickets to one of the final games of the season, a game conveniently just after she and Troy had attended their charity ball.

She was gonna fuck this up, and she knew it. It was hard enough to play act their way through a charity dinner, but it was made easier by the fact that going to a dinner like that was out of the ordinary for both of them. Watching a basketball game wasn't anything they didn't do together already. Both she and Troy were huge fans, though she would have to admit that he got more into the local teams than she did. They watched basketball together at home, in their underwear, eating pizza. It was normal. This date was too much like everyday for her, and Elle knew that she was going to fuck it up somehow.

How could she be casual doing something that was just regular for them? Granted, they didn't go out to games, not together, but this felt too close to home. As apprehensive as she was about it, she was also looking forward to this stupid date. God, how long had she wanted to do something just like this with Troy? They never got a chance to do dating, it was always hiding and lying and too quick moments between them. The one time when they might have gotten away with coming clean, she got blown up and was in a coma for so long damn near everyone that wasn't Troy or Johnny forgot her name.

"Stop it," she muttered aloud to herself. Those weren't memories Elle wanted to dredge up right now, not when she was pulling in to park. The attendant in the reflective jacket waved her forward, but when she rolled down her window he gave her a grin that glinted with gold teeth.

"No charge for you, Boss," he said, and let her through without collecting the five bucks for parking. She didn't know his face, couldn't tell if he was one of Ultor's men or her own. Hopefully his generosity was a sign that things were going to go well tonight.

When she entered the gym it smelled like the sweat of a thousand socks, with a veneer of food layered over it. Troy was waiting with his coat over her seat, though he didn't need to bother with the coat, since Ultor had bought up the seats around them. They weren't actually there to sit among the public, just to fulfill the terms of their contract. After she pushed through the crush of people and taken a few photos and signed a cast for a guy with a broken leg, her mood was significantly improved. One girl asked her about Troy, but Elle turned the question back on her, asking if she thought Troy was cute. Her face had gone red and she'd nodded, but said his mustache was 'kinda bad'. She laughed as she recounted the conversation to Troy.

His hand went up to touch it self-consciously, and she felt a stab of guilt for even telling him. "Is it really that bad?" he asked.

"Nah, it's manly," Elle lied. She hated it, but it wasn't her fucking face. He could have a weird lip caterpillar if he wanted. The guy behind her bumped her as he made to move into his seat, and she sent his butt a glare.

There were so many people around them, that Elle couldn't get comfortable. The game started, mercifully, so she could go home soon. Part of what she loved about going to sports games was the anonymity, the ability to drink and yell and be just part of the crowd of drunk cheerleaders in the stands, but that was lost to her. She sipped at her weak beer until it grew gross and warm, making sure the looks she managed to sneak of Troy weren't too obvious. The man beside her was Ultor security and not trying to hide it, annoyingly talking into his earpiece for good portions of the night. He wasn't a Stilwater U basketball fan.

When they called a timeout, the man behind him, the butt bumper, leaned down to 'encourage' her and Troy to hold hands where the cameras could see. So far they'd just been sitting together, mostly silent, but occasionally making comments and cheering as the game went on. Troy told him to fuck off with his suggestion, and Elle added her agreement. Undeterred, the man sat back in his seat and opened his phone, probably to whine to Ultor about it, or submit himself for corporal punishment or whatever happened after not being successful in their world. She wasn't thinking about it, though Troy's hand had crept towards hers atop their coats when they'd turned back to face the floor.

The Kiss Cam zoomed in on the two of them, and she hadn't noticed it before because of the Ultor flunky distracting them. She closed her eyes, hoping his call hadn't been to order the camera to find them, but knowing how likely it was. When she opened them, Troy was hovering, his head tilted to the side in a question he didn't need to actually ask. Despite herself, she moved closer and smiled at him, looping her arms around his neck. He leaned in to kiss her, and she felt the tension in his body, the way he deliberately held back as he kissed her and broke away. The roar in the stadium was deafening, going on far longer than they'd kissed. A nervous giggle burbled in her, and she laughed, incredulous and dumb-founded by the reaction of the people around her.

"That seems to have done it," Troy murmured, and looked over at her. He was wearing his stern, officer's face, though his cheeks flamed, and for that she was glad. If he'd been smiling, she would have found it hard to resist leaning in to give him another kiss.

The camera found another unlucky couple and focused on them, just as Elle was wondering if she'd ever seen a Kiss Camera at a Stilwater U game before. Probably not, she decided, and hated Ultor just a little bit more for it.

The next day Pierce actually brought her the section of the newspaper with the picture of her and Troy on it. There were too many cameras on them, and it was getting on her fucking nerves. The picture was good, but Elle was annoyed when she looked it. It said underneath "Unlikely couple going strong, Police Chief Troy Bradshaw and Ultor Saints Boss caught on Kiss Cam," like it hadn't focused on them. It didn't matter, Elle realized when she looked at it. She was smiling at Troy with her arm around him, and he was grinning back at her, caught in the moment just before he swooped in and gave her that short kiss. The photo was more intimate than a kiss. She tossed it aside with a scowl.

Fuck, she hated playing games. Better just to let it all blow up, but then she shuddered at the thought. Julius had thought the same thing, and look where she'd landed.

#

"Boss, the marketing team had some good ideas when I met with them today," Pierce said, entering the room.

"Oh fuck me, no good conversation ever begins with a mention of the marketing team."

Pierce was undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm, and gave her a wide smile. She couldn't help but return it, because Pierce always had the effect on her. No matter what she said or how much she scowled, he had her singing in the car with him or doing something else stupid. "C'mon Boss, got some stuff to run by you," he said.

"Hit me," Elle said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs.

"Did you know about this energy drink shit when you signed me up?" he asked, but before she had a chance to answer, he did it for her. "Cause it's crazy. Lots of cash to be made, the market is growing out of control. They aren't replacing coffee, but energy drinks are definitely eating into their market share."

"Market share?"

"It means how much--"

"I know what it means, asshole. I just don't know why I'd care," Elle interrupted.

"We're calling it Saints Flow, what do you think?" he asked.

"Not bad," she admitted. "Is this what the marketing team so brilliantly thought of today?"

"The drink's been testing well with audiences, although today someone said it tasted like purple drank without the codeine." Elle laughed at that, but Pierce went on, "I got ideas for the commercial, Boss. Good ones. We've got it scheduled already. Are you ready to go to Japan for two weeks?" he asked, grinning at her.

"Yeah, about that," Elle said, then stopped. Pierce took her silence as a sign of the worst, and started in telling her not to give up on his project, to let him go ahead and make the commercial. Ultor already had it in the budget. The commercial would practically shoot itself, according to Pierce. He just needed to be there, and her tiny, only responsibility would be to you know, approve everything they did over there.

"You done?" she asked, only mildly exasperated. She shouldn't have let him get on a roll like that. Pierce could beg like a pro. She was almost impressed, if it hadn't been so damn shameful. "I was only going to mention that if Troy can get the time off, he's coming with us," she said.

"Your cop boyfriend?" Pierce asked, both eyebrows shooting towards the line of his cap. She watched him impassively, determined not to defend herself. She wasn't called Boss just because it was the best nickname ever. She waited without even a flicker of expression. Mastering his surprise, he got his face under control and shrugged at her with none of the nonchalance he was trying for. "Cool with me, I guess. It's not like they don't know who you are in Japan, Boss. If he is with you, there's gonna be pictures."

"Ultor can sort it out. We need a vacation," Elle said, setting her mind to it. Now all she needed to do was convince Troy to actually take the time off.

Turns out she didn't have to, after mentioning it to Eric Gryphon. He'd called, predictably, as she was about to do something else, and Elle had been forced to pull over and actually pay attention as he talked, stopping in a parking lot near what used to be Tanya's Prawn Court. Gryphon was surprisingly enthusiastic about the request, which made Elle narrow her eyes in suspicion, though he couldn't see her. Best to tell Johnny to keep an eye on him when she was gone, because there was no trust in her at all, especially not where Ultor was concerned.

Troy roared into the townhouse after she did, which was unusual, but he was in a tear about Ultor overstepping their bounds. She sat down on the couch with her glass, after mixing them both drinks that were about two-third rum to one-third cola, the tinkling of the ice lost as Troy huffed and puffed his indignation at her. She waved him down to sit next to her, and he sat, only pausing to take a drink and wince at it before starting up again.

"They're fucking out of control, Ellie. Making me taking a vacation, like I'm their fucking lapdog and they can just order me around," he vented. "I should fucking quit, quit this whole game and make them pay out my pension." She let him talk himself out before she replied.

"Yeah, well it's my fault," she admitted. "Not that Ultor doesn't overstep, give them an inch and they talk the whole fucking street, but I gently suggested --"

"You didn't pull a gun on Gryphon did you?"

"I would never, unless he asked nicely or really pissed me off. Anyway, I told him I wanted to ride your dick in an international setting, and he agreed that we should get out of Stilwater, and asked that I never put it that way again."

Troy snorted at her, hiding his laughter. He curled into her, laying down on the couch with his feet hanging over the end and his head in her lap. Elle absently stroked his hair with one hand and took a drink with the other. Quiet settled between them until Troy spoke.

"Your drink is dripping on my face."

"Sorry." Then Elle spoke again, asking, "You really mad about going on vacation?"

"I wish you would have asked me before Ultor," he admitted.

"Wasn't thinking," she said by way of apologizing again. "Do you wanna go?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'd go anywhere with you, you know that," he said, and grinned up at her. Elle couldn't help but smile back.


End file.
